Come Take A Bite Of My Heart Tonight
by littlecherub1901
Summary: Dean Winchester was sure about three things, one, he was getting the story of a life time, two, he had a crush on Castiel and three...Castiel was not human.
1. Chapter 1

**Come take a bite of my heart tonight**

**Summary: Castiel is an ancient creature of darkness being followed by a young reporter named Dean. Rather than do away with the man he decides to do something he has never done before...tell **_**his **_**story. How will Dean react when he discovers there **_**are**_** things that go bump in the night? **

**Disclaimer: characters are not mine (sigh)**

Night had finally fallen and Castiel began to make his way from the secluded area of the bar to the door until he caught _that _scent. That very scent had been following for the past week and he grew tired with the silent cat and mouse game. Swiftly, Castiel made an exit and was pleased to notice a thumping heart rate close behind. Smirking to himself he made his way to a dark alley and waited until the "observer" approached. Dean cautiously side stepped a broken glass bottle to avoid alerting the thing of his presence. Suddenly, the wind was knocked out of him as he was slammed against the opposite wall. Feeling an intense gaze upon him, he hesitantly opened his eyes and to his utter amazement, there stood Castiel. Castiel, with his piercing blue eyes. Castiel in his trademark leather jacket and his very tousled hair. Castiel...the man suspected of murdering an entire family in their sleep. Castiel suspected to be armed, dangerous and psychotic. Dean gulped audibly. Castiel noticed the escalation in the stranger's pulse and was pleased that he had enough sense to be afraid. "Mmm, you are either very brave to follow me...or incredibly stupid" Castiel murmured as he inhaled Dean's scent._ What the hell is he doing to my neck? Oh God, maybe he really is insane. What if he did kill all those people? So much blood at the crime scene. Bodies mangled and strewn across the house. What if I'm next?_ "I...I wasn't following you. I was on my way home from work." Dean Lied quickly. Castiel pulled back from Dean's neck and looked at him with a thoroughly amused expression. "Well, we both know that's a lie. Especially since I am able to read whatever thought you might have. Tell me? Do you often follow people suspected of murder? Does it give you some sort of...rush? Do you value your own life so little? You can relax though, I did not murder that family and I'm _definitely _not going to kill you" growled Castiel in his deep gravel tone. For a moment Dean lost the ability to speak. He knew. No one knew he was assigned to investigate Castiel. "If you're not gonna kill me, then why am I pressed up here like a damsel?"Dean huffed out irritably. If he was going to be killed, he'd rather it be done fast-no sick mind games first. Castiel couldn't suppress a tiny laugh at that. It sent shivers down Dean's spine and not in a particularly unpleasant way. "I really don't intend to kill you; I would simply appreciate it if you would stop following me and ask me your questions directly. After all, we are both gentlemen. And what might I ask is said _gentlemen's _name?" Responded Castiel politely._ He wants to talk? Maybe even confess, Dean remembered that some killers tended to brag over their kill. It would be the story of a life time. He would definitely get that promotion._ "Dean. My name is Dean. You want to talk. To me. About the murders?" Dean asked doubtfully. "Yes. I will be seeing you very, very soon, Dean." And with that, Castiel was _gone. He simply vanished. Literally. _Dean was certain of a few things: one, he would be getting the story of the century, two, he found the mysterious man attractive and three... he was positive that Castiel was _not_ human.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Sleeping with the enemy**

**Author's note: Hey everyone sorry this took so long to post but I've had some really annoying issues with my computer. Anyway it's all sorted and I can get back to posting Enjoy! Please read and review!**

Dean wasted no time in getting home. In fact he ran like his life depended on it and to perfectly honest, he wasn't sure it didn't. He double-bolted the front door and, as an extra measure, placed his late father's hunting knife under his pillow. Dean lay in bed for an hour, feeling restless and on edge. He couldn't stop thinking of the encounter he had with Castiel. Castiel_ terrified_ him. He _knew _things that only Dean and his editor knew. He was very strong, more so than your average "deceptively strong" types. He seemed to know how to find Dean. It was a hunch but Dean wouldn't put it past Castiel. Sighing to himself, Dean decided to take a shower to help relax him. The water felt like magic. It was soothing and helped to chase away all of the worry of the day. He enjoyed the calming effects so much that he only left the shower well after the water lost its heat.

Dean padded off to bed finally feeling relaxed and sleep came quickly. Little did he know that he was _not _alone. _Castiel watched Dean from the corner of_ _the bedroom and smiled. The reporter looked positively exhausted and he decided to leave but not before walking over to the large bed and wiping a stray hair from Dean's face and then placing a small package on the bedside table. He looked so peaceful to Castiel and with that thought, he left._

The next morning, Dean woke with a start. He felt completely rested and decided to make the most of it. He cranked up his stereo to his favourite mixed album and made his way to the kitchen to make himself the biggest pancake stack possible. After he had eaten and changed, he phoned his brother Sam and made plan's for dinner. He was in such a good mood that he decided on visiting Bobby. Whistling to himself, he went to grab his jacket from his bedroom. It was then he noticed a small brown box next to his bed. With a small frown, Dean reached for it and turned it over curiously in his hands. In the box was a key with a note written in elegant script. _Dean, this is the key to a hotel room at The Grand. Be there at midnight. Come alone, tell no one of our meeting and I'll keep my word regarding that story of a lifetime, Castiel. P.s: you should really lock your window at night._ Dean re-read the letter twice. Castiel had gotten into his house last night and hadn't killed him. Along with that daunting thought Dean couldn't help but think he was lucky. Surely that was a good sign? Dean would have been vulnerable and unprotected asleep; an easy target. Dean pondered not going or maybe involving the authorities. If Dean went, he could find out more about the murders. If it was an ambush, at least no one else would be hurt. Dean decided upon going. He would take his 9mm with just in case Castiel did turn out to be psycho...but what chance did he really have against someone who seemed so inhuman? Dean was no fool and found a loophole in the letter, it said _don't tell _anyone but nothing of leaving a note outlining where he had gone and with whom. Yes, this could actually work!

The dinner with Sam and Jess was going decidedly well; Dean was slightly on edge but masked it well. "So, Dean, any big stories coming up?" asked Jess. "Nope, nothing major. Still working the undercover one," answered Dean. "I wish you wouldn't be so darn mysterious about it! You've been on this for two whole months! Can't you tell us anything?" complained Jess. Sam laughed. "Hon, Dean might end up jeopardizing the story if he tells us." Sam Interjected. "Alright, alright, but Dean promise that when you can talk about it you'll tell us? With that murderer on the loose... everyone needs to be kept safe and on guard. "Said Jess in defeat. "I know Jess and I will. I think I might have finally gotten a break. We'll get this guy." Dean reassured her. "So a lead, huh? That's good news then. Still working with the cops on this?" asked Sam after a moment."Yeah, it's nothing major yet; could turn out to be nothing. How about that dessert?'' said Dean. The other's laughed. "Alright, alright we get it. No more probing your story," replied Sam good-naturedly. Dean smiled; he could always count on Sam to get him out of awkward situations. They ate apple pie and drank coffee and chatted about everyday things until Sam looked at Jess and said "I think it's time we told someone." Jess beamed and nodded enthusiastically. "Tell me what?" asked Dean curiously. "Dean, Jess and I... we're gonna have a baby!" Said Sam excitedly. "A baby? That's awesome you guys," started Dean while giving out hugs, "I'm still too young and sexy to be called uncle Dean though" ended Dean laughing. The others joined in and then, too soon, the clock chimed eleven and Dean decided to make his leave. After a few mushy goodbyes and very manly hugs, Dean started the drive to the hotel.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Fade Into Darkness**

**A/n: ****I am SO sorry I left this story for so long but after the last chapter I had a hard time trying to write the follow-up chapter. I hope you enjoy this one and as always reviews are really appreciated (they also influence my update times ;) )**

**Disclaimer: not mine**

Dean was not nervous because Dean Winchester does not get nervous. _I'm fine. It'll be okay. We're meeting in a public place. It's okay._ Dean repeated this chant during the entire drive. Not even Led Zeppelin could soothe his unease. Under the circumstances, Dean supposed he was right to feel a little apprehensive of this little endeavour. Then, almost too soon, Dean was pulling in to the Grand's car park. He sat frozen for precisely 5 minutes; Dean knows this because his eyes were glued to the two arms connected to the lavish clock suspended above the entrance of the hotel. Dean never really cared much for lavish hotels and the like as he had never really been able to afford them _but this? This looked like a freaking palace. _Dean began to fidget as he made his way up to the entrance. People like him... "The scum" didn't belong in places like this. He believed this due to the constant tormenting throughout his high school years. Dean had attended a private school on scholarship (a fact that surprised many as they always assumed Sam was the only intelligent Winchester who went to Stanford) and had constantly been ridiculed over the state of his clothing or the carefully woven stitching visible on his backpack by the 'upper class'. They didn't know that the "shit draping-leather" was the sole reminder he had of his deceased father, they didn't know that this was the jacket that Dean had snuggled into when he was a baby-the scent always calming his tiny body and they didn't know how Mary had to work two jobs to support him and Sam. The day Dean had returned home after a beating with a bloodied nose and a slash through his school bag because the bag was no better than "a garbage sack", Mary had cried. Seeing his mom cry was the one thing that would always bring Dean to his knees. With her trembling fingers, she dressed the wounds on Dean's face and opened the box of washing powder in which she hid her "savings". Dean refused the money- he couldn't bear the thought of using a cent of the 20 dollars and so asked his mother if she would stitch the split. Mary complied but resented herself for not being able to give more to her two boys.

"Can I help you...? Sir" a beady eyed man from behind the reception area sneered as he took in Dean's dress. Dean was used to being judged and so it didn't sting so much. "Uh,yes. I have this key and I'm supposed to be meeting someone here." Dean explained quickly but realised that Castiel had not given him the name the room would be under. _Crap, how do I talk, myself out of this one? _"Does this person have a name? I, regrettably, cannot allow a man of your...stature into a paying guest's room." Feigned the man named Alistair. Dean by this point,had had more than enough an just as Dean was about to respond with a nasty retort he heard someone call his name from behind. "Mr Winchester!" spluttered a nervous looking man. "Uh, hi" Dean offered feeling more than a little confused. "M-my name's Chuck. Ca-Castiel sent me to collect you and show you up to his room" Chuck got out eventually. Dean gave a curt nod to the douche bag behind the reception and proceeded to follow Chuck. It felt like Dean was lost in a maze with the amount of inter-woven passages but finally, finally Chuck stopped at a dark brown door. "Inside is an elevator. I-It'll take you straight up to _his _room." Chuck said quietly as if it was the world's most closely guarded secret. Chuck scampered off before Dean could offer as much as a thank you. With an audible swallow, Dean opened the door and pressed the "up" button on the elevator. Too soon did the short ride come to a stop and the doors opened to reveal a lavish lounge. There was no other way to describe it-it was an honest-to-God lounge and not one of the common loveseats with a small television plopped in front of it. This was dare he think it-beautiful. The couches were encased in the finest black leather that made Dean's bed look like a piece of cardboard and the televison!Oh the television took up most of the wall. Without thinking, Dean stepped into the dimly lit room and touched the sofa. "See you found your way up alright." Spoke a gravelly voice from the shadows. Dean retracted his hand as if he had been shocked-which in this case he kind of had been. "I-I-"Dean stammered. "Relax." Castiel whispered from right behind him. Slowly and almost cautiously, Dean felt Castiel move even closer until he was pressed against Dean's back. Dean gasped as one slender arm encircled his middle, whilst the other offered him a glass of whiskey.

Castiel had sensed Dean's distress from the moment he entered the lobby of his hotel. It pleased him that Dean seemed to be rational enough to fear the unknown but it...bothered him that Dean still seemed to fear him. Castiel had seen enough into Dean's mind to know that he was a receptive human meaning that touch was a better medium to be used when trying to calm him. With the speed of a thought, Castiel had his arm strung around Dean's waist in an attempt to hold him up should he faint from all the nerves buzzing inside his body.

Dean tried very hard to calm himself down. Nothing was working. He felt the goose flesh rise due to the fact that Castiel was _right_ behind him. _Pull yourself together, Dean. _Dean tilted his head to the arm offering the whiskey and Castiel poured some down his throat. The pleasant burn seemed to help clear his mind and then reality sunk in-he was in the arms of a killer. Dean made a hurried movement to get away but Castiel was much too quick and Dean was soon pinned against the wall. "Uh uh, we were behaving so nicely. Dean, please just relax." Castiel whispered into his ear. Dean shivered. It felt almost good to be held down like this. Dean just had time to start panicking about his pattern of thoughts and renew his struggles when to cold fingers touched his forehead and he faded into darkness.

**A/N: Bit off a cliff hanger **** there should be another update tomorrow. Please review! Thank you for reading**


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